


We That Are True Lovers

by cellard00rs



Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Thor (Movies) RPF
Genre: Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, RPF, References to Shakespeare, Romance, Texting, but also smut, kinda of sugary cute, sort of funny?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-19
Updated: 2013-11-19
Packaged: 2018-01-02 01:14:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1050777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cellard00rs/pseuds/cellard00rs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started with texts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We That Are True Lovers

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this on a whim and some of my friends really, REALLY liked it and peer pressured me into putting this up. I'm not all that big on RPF myself but this just...happened. Quite a few of the texts are based off of Twitter comments and there are references to things I've seen in videos, heard in interviews, etc. But overall this IS a work of complete and utter fiction and is not meant to offend or upset anyone. It is purely for entertainment purposes. All mistakes are my own.

It started with texts.

They hadn’t spoken in so long that Tom didn’t initially recognize the number that flashed on his phone and he checked it with a quirked brow.

_‘Sup._

He frowned and typed back: **And who might this be?**

_Good question. How about I give u a hint: Pop Candies TV._

Tom’s eyes narrowed as he tried to remember why that was familiar only to have his phone beep again with another text, this one reading: _No, w8! Got 1 better. MTV – I called u ‘stunning’ & ‘gorg’._

Tom sat up straighter, his fingers flying over the screen: **Katherine?**

_Graaa – can’t believe u still want 2 call me that. ;p_

**It is your name.**

_Yeah, my FULL name. Why not just call me Ms. Litwack u Jane-Austen-mfer._

Tom rolled his eyes but a smile lit his face regardless.

**You hate your last name.**

_Yup. Also hate ‘Katherine’. Hence Kat Dennings. Try it with me: Kaaaat._

**Pop Candies TV?**

_What?_

**That was your first hint.**

_Ouch. Fine. ‘kay. Nice 2 know u don’t remember the paparazzo catching us on that date. Fine. Whatevs._

Tom flashed back to that night. Warm air, nice breeze, Kat’s hand in his and the smiles on both their faces. He felt his chest constrict before answering: **Ah, yes. Remember now. Why the texts, if I may be so bold?**

He could just imagine Kat’s reaction to that question and, moreover, how he phrased it.

_U may b, sir, if u can start talkin’ like some1 from this century._

**Says the woman who can’t type out full words via text.**

_U r 1 2 talk._

**You just wanted to type out that text didn’t you?**

_Maaaaybe._

He chuckled and waited for her to say more but she didn’t. He frowned, wondering how he could keep the conversation going only for her to finally respond with: _Might’ve missed u._

Tom swallowed thickly. It took him a while to think of how to properly reply: **Why?**

_U mean Y?_

**Yes.**

Another long pause between texts, finally: _Didn’t get 2 c u during filming. Thought I would._

**Our characters do not share any scenes.**

_Yeah, true but, y’know, u r usually hangin’ all over Chris._

**Was busy.**

_I’ve been busy too._

Tom bit the inside of his cheek and found himself answering before thinking: **Yes, I am sure. How is Nicholas?**

He immediately regretted the text as soon as he had sent it. Their relationship had been short lived. Passionate but short lived. She had her life in the States, he in England. Things between them had ended amicably enough. There was no reason to be bitter about it now. Not to mention he himself had done his fair share of dating since things had ended. She could just as easily shoot back at him about Jane Arthy. 

**Don’t know how NICK Zano (or Mr. Zano, if u prefer) is. Broke up.**

Tom immediately felt dreadful.

_I didn’t know._

**No 1 does. Kept it quiet. Most think we’re still 2gether. Just friends now, thou.**

_I’m sorry._

Several minutes passed and she did not text back. Just as Tom had put the phone down and come to the conclusion that she would not text again he heard the telltale sound of his phone receiving a message. Part of him cringed at how quickly he checked it.

**No big. Neway, it ok if I text you again sometime?**

Tom grinned: _Sure._

+

After that the texts came almost regularly. For the most part they were mundane things but highly amusing and, if Tom was honest, highly endearing.

_Dishwasher broke! ;( Spent hour draining w/ empty shampoo bottle._

_Watching Aladdin. Has any1 ever been trapped in Disney Vault?_

_My eyebrows r everywhere this morning._

_I dreamed of a cat made of almond milk containers. POETRY._

_Yo dawg I heard u like insomnia so I put insomnia in ur insomnia so u can insomnia while u insomnia._

Whenever he had a free moment he would respond and sometimes even initiate them himself. His texts were probably not as interesting to her as hers were to him but he found it sort of comforting to shoot random thoughts in her direction.

**Have you listened to Lemonworld by The National? Very thoughtful lyrics.**

**Rereading Patrick Melrose novels by Edward St Aubyn. Very painful, very honest, very funny.**

**Ran five miles around Regent’s Park. Might need a bit of lie down now.**

**Had an omlette with a half tin of kidney beans for lunch today. How about you?**

**I’m missing one of my socks. I suspect Tilda. She keeps chuckling at me and asking if my feet are cold.**

But while he would idly worry about whether or not she received them well it appeared that she did because she followed the same course of action as he did – sometimes she would respond and other times she would send a random text days later.

Either way their back and forth was something Tom found himself looking forward to. It was nice to be communicating with her again, even if was only through short texts. The latest came while he was in Sydney to promote Thor: The Dark World. He was in a bookstore called Kinokuniya and had met with several fans only to hear his phone chime. Unable to help himself he took a quick peek.

_My robot goldfish died._

Tom couldn’t help laughing aloud and some of the girls in the audience nearly swooned when he did so. He felt a tiny stab of guilt about it but brushed it off. His fans loved him and he loved his fans. He was always proud of them seeing the best sides of him and his laughing was (reportedly ) one of them. Still, he found himself unable to not answer.

**Care to explain?**

_No. Still 2 heartbroken._

**My apologies. R.I.P Robo Goldie**

_How’d u know his name?_

**Wild guess.**

_What u up 2?_

**Book signing.**

_U wrote a book?! Gah – stop being so talented!_

**No book – just promoting film. Should get back to it.**

Just as he was about to put his phone away and turn his full attention back to the people present his phone rang. His eyes widened and he looked down to see her name illuminated. He knew he shouldn’t answer. He shouldn’t answer, he shouldn’t answer, he shouldn’t answer…

“Hello?” 

“Why are you whispering?”

Tom put one hand to his free ear to try to muffle out the noise of the crowd, “I’m right in the thick of it. I shouldn’t have even picked up.”

“Ahhh, I getcha. You’re trying to be covert. Cool. Well, Agent H, I know you don’t have time to talk now and I’m sorry I called. I know you’re super busy, I mean, I really just planned on leaving a message…”

Tom’s eyebrows rose because Kat sounded nervous. _Kat_ sounded _nervous._ He had never, ever, _ever_ known her to be nervous but her tone came out breathless as she spoke, “But-but I was…y’know, just wondering…”

“Yes?”

“Maybe, ah, you could…come visit?”

Tom’s mouth opened and closed, no sound coming out. Kat’s voice came again, just as unsure as before, “Or maybe I could, I don’t know, come see you?”

“Where are you?”

“Burbank.”

“Aren’t you filming your show?”

“Yeah, but mean…I could _make_ time…”

Tom licked his lips, “No.”

Kat let out a loud, heavy breath, “Yeah, okay. Sure. No big deal. I understand…”

“Katherine,” He chided softly, “I wasn’t finished.”

She snorted, “Finish then, asshole!”

His lips twitched, “Best hope none of my adoring fans overheard that.”

“Fine. Finish then, _sweetheart_.”

“What I was trying to say before you so rudely interrupted is, no, I wouldn’t want you to miss your filming. I should be able to carve out some free time to come see you. Does…does next week sound good?”

“Yeah,” she returned softly, “Sounds great.”

“You’ll send me your address?”

“Duh,” she muttered dryly but with clear warmth, “Now get back to your adoring fans, will you? You know they’re just _dying_ to kneel before you.”

She hung up on that and he put the phone away with a grin, turning to the crowd to not only receive wild applause but also to prep himself to, indeed, ask for their kneeling submission in trademark Loki fashion.

+

It was surprisingly easier to arrange a secret trip than he thought it would be, especially now. The height of his popularity over the past few years had risen to the point where he was a glaring target for the more rabid paparazzi and gossip mongers but for the most part he managed to travel in stealthy enough circles to avoid detection.

Thankfully his agent was one of the best people in the world as was his publicist, not to mention his security detail was just as circumspect and understanding. Not a one of them raised so much as an eyebrow when he expressed his desire to travel to California or when he revealed he was going to see Kat. But then most of them had been around when their relationship had initially started. He didn’t know what any of their opinions were but frankly it wasn’t any of their business anyway.

This was between him and Kat.

Sometimes he wondered what his life might have been like had he not found fame. If she had not found fame. They probably would have never even met each other. The thought of it caused a dark cloud of gloom to rise inside of him. He pushed it away with a shake of his head. No sense in contemplating events that did not transpire. They had found fame, they had met, they had dated, they had fallen apart and they had reconnected.

That was all that mattered.

Soon enough he found himself outside her door, hand upraised to knock, a sense of unreality washing over him only to have her open the door and look up at him. She looked exactly like he remembered. Wide blue eyes, luscious lips, curls upon curls of rich dark hair, she smiled at him and leaned against the doorjamb like some sultry 1950’s starlet, “Why hello there, sailor.”

He walked in with a laugh, “‘Sailor’? Really?”

“It was either that or Tom-Tom.”

“And just what shall I call you then? Kitty Kat?”

“Yeah, if you want to die, sure.” She deadpanned and he laughed again, “I think I shall stick to Katherine.”

She let out a weary sigh and scratched at the back of her head, shutting the door behind them. Tom looked around her place with interest. It summed her up perfectly. It was all dark colors, modern art, and rows upon rows of bookshelves. He remembered quite well that she was a vivacious reader and saw that a copy of Haruki Murakami’s ‘A Wild Sheep Chase’ rested open on one of the sofas. He secretly wondered if she had been reading it as she waited for him.

Or perhaps she had looked out at the view considering the wall to his left was made up of nothing more than windows. He was surprised to see this, considering how much she valued her privacy. However, they were very high up and security, both in and out, was impressively tight. His own detail waited outside with hers not to mention that she wasn’t the only famous person currently within residence.

He rightfully returned his attention back to her when she spoke, “Kat will do just fine. Never heard you call Chris, Christopher or Ken, Kenneth.”

Tom gasped with fake dismay, “I did so call Kenneth by his given name! He was our director and I showed him the utmost respect he deserved.”

“But you called him Ken now and then.”

“Yes.”

“Yet you persist on calling _me_ Katherine.”

He walked towards her, hands buried deep in his coat pockets. She stood up straighter as his eyes scanned up and down her body. She wore a tight fitting black leather vest that was low cut, a golden zipper right down the center and beneath that a stylishly cut brown skirt. It wasn’t her normal attire. Normally she was a flannels and comfy pajama bottoms kind of girl but she had just left a photo shoot for the show and this was what they had given her to the wear. Along with a monster pair of black heels that she had already discarded for comfort’s sake.

She looked him over as well since he was eyeing her so studiously. He wore a tan trench coat, white button up shirt, dark blue slacks and…

Her eyes widened and she pointed at his neck, “What the hell is that?”

He looked down in confusion, “What?”

“Are you-?” she shook her head in amused astonishment, “Are you wearing an _ascot_?”

He finally saw she meant the wadded up checkered blue cloth beneath his shirt, “That is not an ascot. It is a scarf.”

Her lips twitched to one side and she reached out, taking hold of it, “Yeah, well…it has _got_ to go. You look ridiculous.”

Kat tugged on the scarf gently and started unfolding it from around his neck, easing it up and away from his shirt. It wasn’t until it was free that she realized the position they were in. She was close to him. She was removing an article of his clothing. Her actions slowed at the realization, causing her to pull the scarf away from him in an almost sensual way.

Their eyes locked and she swallowed thickly.

Humor.

Humor was the best way out of this.

Fighting to make herself smile she looped the scarf around her own neck, “There. Probably looks waaaay better on me.”

He shrugged, “It is adequate.”

“Just adequate? Boy, do you know how to flatter a girl.” Her voice was dry with just the barest hint of hurt when he said huskily, “You misunderstand me, Katherine. What I meant is; you would look much better without it.”

Kat licked her lips and removed it, avoiding his eyes as she mumbled, “Still haven’t told me why you call me ‘Katherine’.”

His long fingers reached out and caught her chin, directing her gaze back up to his, “I call you Katherine because it is your name. And it is a beautiful name. I quite like it.”

“O-Oh…you-you do?”

He nodded but she drew away from his touch, shaking her head, “Tom…”

“Why did you start texting me, Katherine?”

Kat had asked herself that question about a million times. Her eyes were downcast as she lifted one shoulder weakly and let it drop; “Dunno. I was just…Nick and I broke up and I started thinking. Started looking back over all my relationships. Matthew and Drake…though I wouldn’t even say Drake was someone I dated, seeing as we went out only once and we didn’t even click and that’s…”

She trailed off and turned her back to him, walking towards the long, expansive windows to look out at the dark night sky, the city below glittering like Christmas lights, “Nick and I clicked. Or I thought we did. We were so similar. Both sarcastic and dry and…acting skills right about on par with one another. Being with him was nothing like being with you.”

Tom just looked at her, “We weren’t together very long.”

Her fingers touched the glass of the window, “Yeah. Read some tabloid that said our relationship ‘fizzled’ by the time ‘Thor’ came out. Gotta love those rags.”

He scowled, “It didn’t ‘fizzle’. What a ridiculous word.”

“What do you call it then?” she asked, tone wistful, “It was over two years ago now.”

“I know.”

She shook her head once more and let her hand dropped from the window so that she could crossed her arms, her gaze directed on the floor, “It would have never worked between us. You love living in England. It’s your home. And this is my home and I had the audition for the show and I took it and now…”

“Katherine…”

“The show started off really promising, you know? I mean I still love working with Whitney and the guys. And Beth, Beth is my best friend but the reviews so far for this season,” she ran a hand through her hair, “Normally I don’t give a shit about that sort of thing but even I have to admit the writing has been…” she trailed off, obviously frustrated, “But of course there’s a contract and it’s not even that I really _want_ to leave it’s just…”

“Katherine…” he whispered again and walked closer to her until he was only inches away.

“And it’s how I met Nick. And I thought, I mean, we went so well together and it seemed like it was going to get serious but I couldn’t…and he couldn’t…”

Tom reached out to touch her but before he could she whirled on him, both hands raised, voice sharp and hot with anger, “And then I get roped into the Thor sequel and start thinking about you and it would have never, ever worked between us! You are so fucking horribly optimist and sweet and stupid with your dumb accent and curly Gene Wilder hair and your perfect punctuation and grammar and you’re in theatrical plays and stunning films and you’re a fucking sweetheart who’s going to win a million awards and I’m just a low level television actress who will never amount to-”

His hands cupped her face, thumbs rubbing along her cheeks as he interrupted, voice an ardent mummer, “Katherine, stop.”

She gulped thickly, “Why?”

“Because you’re crying.”

Kat blinked and felt a few more hot tears escape. She choked for a moment and tried to laugh, “Shut up. _You’re_ crying.”

His voice was soft, “I almost am, yes.”

“Why?”

“Because you are.”

“You’re such an overly sensitive ass.”

“So I’ve been told,” he said and, taking hold of one of her hands, he tugged her away from the window. While he had never been to this place before he easily managed to discern where her restroom was and he took her inside. The bathroom counter was obscenely long as was the mirror that hung above it. On the left nearest to the door, there rested a second mirror, though the way it jutted out hinted that a cabinet rested behind it.

He clicked it open to find wash clothes inside. He took one, closed the cabinet and then gestured to the counter before him. Kat breathed in shakily and, turning, hoisted herself up to sit on the counter as he moved farther down to where the actual sink was. He ran the wash cloth under the tap, then wrung it out until it was damp before gently running it over her face. A choked, teary sound left her, “Thanks, Momma Hiddles.”

He said nothing but instead continued to gently stroke her face until all her tears were gone. Then he handed her another wash cloth so she could dry herself. Once calmed she asked, “So, how about you? Last I heard you were with that music exec…though I also heard you said she was nothing to write home about.”

Tom, not one to curse aloud, did so before saying, “You read a lot of those ‘rags’, don’t you?”

“Hey, The Star does a better job of reporting than Fox News, right?”

“Neither do a credible job, if you want my opinion.”

“Yeah but you must peek at them now and again, right? Or how else did you know about Nick and me?”

Tom looked away from her, not wanting to confirm or deny it. Luckily she dropped it, instead asking, “So? The music exec?”

He sighed, “Yes, I was dating Jane Arthy and yes, I will admit, I said she was nothing to write home about and you cannot know how deeply I regret that remark. I was tired and edgy and said something I shouldn’t have. It upsets me to think about how that might have gotten back to her. Jane is a lovely woman she’s just…not one I wish to be with in that manner.”

Kat stopped rubbing her face dry and tossed the used wash cloth to one side,“Suppose I wasn’t much to write home about either.”

Tom eased his way between her legs as he cupped her face again, directing her eyes back to his, “No one asked me about you then. I wasn’t famous enough, if you’ll recall and neither were you. We were both virtual nobodies who had been cast in a big production. It wasn’t until far later that they discovered our relationship and I highly doubt they would have even cared had the film not been a success. I suppose that’s why they concluded that it had ‘fizzled’ instead of what had actually happened.”

“And what actually happened?”

His gaze darted all over her face, “What happened was I met a lovely girl who hid and continues to hide behind a wall of dry sarcasm when she is, in fact, terribly sweet, terribly friendly, and terribly warm. What happened was that we came to an amicable end because our careers were going in different directions. What happened was it broke my heart but I told no one, not Chris, not even Ben. What happened was, had someone asked then, if they asked now, I would say that you are all I would write home about.”

She felt her heart flutter at that, heard herself gasp, “Tom…”

“Why did you _reall_ text me?”

“I told you, I missed you.”

“Why did you _keep_ texting me, then? Why did you want to see me?”

“Tom…”

“Is this just a rebound? Is this just you remembering old loves or is it more?”

Her gaze drifted to his lips and fresh tears started to escape, “Tom…”

“What do you want, Katherine?”

She eased forward, running her nose along his and his hands left her face, fingers threading through her silky hair. Her mouth was so close to his that their breath mingled with one another as she confessed, “You. I want you, Tom.”

He angled his head and kissed her then, his tongue pushing past her full lips to taste her. She kissed him back, her hands clutching greedily at his coat. His body surged forward, bumping into the counter but still wonderfully close, the heat and pressure of his chest meeting hers enough to make her moan. What started off as a tender, gentle kiss started to rapidly grow into something far fiercer as it continued, as they both started to lose themselves in one another, a desperation underlying every single moment until Kat forced herself to draw back, to breathe, to whisper shakily, “This…this is a bad idea.”

Tom didn’t pull away, was not deterred at all by her words, instead looking at her from under a heavy lidded gaze, his lips brushing with warm dampness across her cheek before glancing over one ear. She shivered at the action and felt his hot breath caress her as he huskily agreed, “Oh yes…” 

He traced the outer shell of her ear with the wet silken tip of his tongue, “Absolutely dreadful.” 

He sucked her earlobe into his mouth and her breath hitched, her head tipping back, her eyelids fluttering closed. His lips left her ear to glide across her bared neck and in response she released her hold on his coat, her fingers rising up to work their way beneath his coat collar, trying ineffectually to push it off. He drew back and, eyes locked, they worked in tandem to remove it. 

The coat fell to the floor with a soft thump as his hands went to her legs, running up and down them, tugging her closer, their lips meeting once more. Her fingers raked through his hair and down his back, almost clawing, while his arms banded strongly around her back, their hips slotting perfectly against one another.

By this point he was practically bending her over the counter and he stopped kissing her long enough to ask, “Bedroom?”

She shook her head, her fingers shaking as they went for his belt, “No. Now. Need you now.”

His mouth dropped open as she undid his belt and then went straight for the zip of his trousers. He could feel the material falling apart, feel the cool air brushing against his heated skin but he found her hands and took them in his own, “Shh, Katherine. No. Slow.”

Kat let out an aggravated moan, “Don’t _want_ slow.”

“I do,” he whispered as he released her hands; “I want to take my time. I want to savor you. You _deserve_ to be savored.”

Kat felt heat lance through her and wished in vain that she wasn’t blushing. She tried to think of something sarcastic to say in response but she found herself struck completely dumb. That was yet another one of Tom’s (strengths) flaws: he was always so damned _earnest_. She wanted to hate him for it. How could he be so sincere in such a cynical world? A world that seemed to be suffering from an overload of apathy? A world where even the most mundane of conversations were wrapped in doubt because god forbid you trust someone, anyone, these days?

He was like a light in the darkness. Cliché maybe, but it was the truth and hell, sometimes he shone too damned brightly. Sometimes it almost hurt her to even look at him and to think of him was worse and he made her doubt everything she knew, everything she understood and she really did want to hate him for it.

She did.

But she found that rather than hate him she did the exact opposite and to such a degree that it terrified her beyond all reason. Terrified her because she wanted to cling to it – sink her teeth into it – hold on to it and never let it go and she feared crushing him, smothering him and here he was talking about how she should be savored.

And as if to prove it he buried his nose into her hair, practically nuzzling her, as his hands roamed all over her body, “You said you missed me. Well, I’ve missed you too.”

He squeezed gently at her arms, her hips; “The feel of you.”

He breathed in loudly, “The scent of you.”

He nudged her hair aside and she felt his lips and – even better – his teeth scrap along her skin, “The taste of you.”

Tom started sucking hot, hungry kisses along her neck and she shuddered. Even more so when she felt his fingers go to the front zipper of her top, felt him tug and tug until the tight material started to fall apart, until it fell away and she lay before him only in her skirt and her lace bra. He ran one fingertip along the left strap of her bra and tsked, “Look at this, cutting into your skin. What an offensive garment. It shall have to come off.”

Kat smirked, “It’s not that tight.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he murmured as he eased the left strap off and then the right. She squirmed at his slow actions, “Anytime this century, Tom.”

“I told you. I want to take my time.”

“And I told you _now_.” She meant the words to be more demanding and authoritative. To her utter dismay they came out in an almost desperate whine. But, well, fuck. She _was_ desperate. She wanted him, all of him, and here he was toying with her. Maybe she had been wrong about him. Maybe he was just as devious and dark as everyone else. Maybe he was even worse because he was driving her crazy as he lowered his head to her chest, the tip of his nose gently grazing the tops of her breasts, brushing the lace and she bit her bottom lip, outright moaning his name.

He gave a soft huff of laughter and that little grin on his face was the same one that had won the hearts of millions of girls all over the world. Millions of girls but this time it was meant for her. Just for her. The mere thought made her eyes water and, furious with herself, she quickly unclasped her bra and tore it off. He looked up at her with mock offense, “That was for me to do.”

“They’re just my boobs, Tom. You’ve seen them before. No need to make a big production out of it.”

His large hands rose and cupped both breasts, the center of each of his palms covering her nipples and she felt herself tremble lightly as he murmured, “No, that completely conventional word you just used is entirely inaccurate. These are your breasts, Katherine.”

The way he said the word somehow made her blood notch up several degrees. Jesus, how could someone make such a pedestrian word sound so damn dirty? Or maybe it was the heat in his gaze as he eyes locked with hers and he continued, “And while I did not free them from their confinement, I still think myself their rescuer meaning that I am allowed to reap their rewards.”

With that, his right hand moved and his dark head descended to draw her nipple deep into his mouth. Kat gasped and her fingers wound their way through his hair to scratch at his scalp, holding him in place. Always annoyingly multitalented, she could feel his nimble fingers working on her other breast, gently rubbing and teasing her other nipple until both were hard peaks. She whimpered and loathed him for it and he must have known because as he traded off his attentions from one to the other he chuckled, “Don’t be upset, darling. Take your pleasure. Enjoy it.”

Kat’s eyes sealed tightly closed at that, lips forming a hard line as she shook his head in defiance and she could feel his grin against her skin, “Come, come…no reason to be so stubborn. Look in the mirror, sweetheart. Look at yourself.”

She sucked in a heavy breath and opened her eyed, looked to her right and could see herself in the mirror on the cabinet door. Could see him as he suckled one breast and then the other, could see as his fingers and hands moved fluidly everywhere on her pale flesh. She could see her flushed cheeks, her lips (swollen from his kisses) trembling and she shifted, feeling her heart thunder at the realization that she was hopelessly desperate for him, an almost painful and consistent throbbing of lust shooting between her legs.

His name left her again in a desperate pant and he moved up, kissing her as his fingers worked her tight skirt up and up, worked until they found the elastic of her lace panties and he practically tore them off. The savagery of the action was not lost on either one of them and they both moaned into the kiss, eyes opening so they could look at one another.

Kat drew back first, once more riveted by the image in the mirror. Her hair looked like a wild, dark cloud and the pink flush that had been on her cheeks had expanded to her bare breasts and stomach. Her skirt was a twisted mess around her and she could just barely make out the dark juncture between her thighs, could see the tips of Tom’s fingers there, gently and lightly brushing along her pelvic bone, “For fuck’s sake, Tom! Touch me already!”

He placed delicate kisses all over her face, “Touch you where, beloved?”

“Wh-what’s up with the names, Mr. Darcy?”

That sound left him, that giggle-laugh that made him sound a bit drunk and endeared him to thousands, that little ‘ehehehe’ before he continued, “Can’t decide which one best describes you. Darling, sweetheart, beloved…they all fit you.”

“Well, at least they’re a step up from you being so freakin’ formal. Don’t think any of them particularly fit, but they are far better than ‘Katherine’.”

“Ohhh, _Katherine_ ,” He damn near purred it and Christ, Kat wouldn’t have thought it possible for a grown man to purr, much less to do it in such a goddamnedly sexy fashion but this man did as he continued, voice dark and honey laced, “No, no…that fits you best of all. Are you looking at us, Katherine? Hmm? Are you looking in the mirror again?”

She shivered, “No.”

“Do it.” The words were so quiet but so strong, so commanding she didn’t even question complying.

“I’m going to touch you now, Katherine. I’m going to bring you right to the very edge of ecstasy and, if you’re a very, _very_ good girl - I’ll push you over it. Would you like that?”

Her answer was a squeak. She couldn’t despise herself more for it, but that’s what it was. A pitiful squeak that spoke volumes of how much she wanted him, how much she needed him, how much she…

That blasted and most feared word came to her again like a hot needle jabbing into her spine and she felt tears escape and he kissed her, took the tears away, “What’s this now? Katherine?”

“I…I _hate_ you.” She huffed and he gave her a bittersweet little grin, “Do you now?”

“Why…why won’t you just-?”

“Because you deserve a lot better than a mere fucking.”

The viciousness of the words surprised her and she met his eyes as he cupped her face, as he kissed her once, twice, then said, “I told you. You deserve to be savored and cherished and given the utmost pleasure. You’re wet for me, Katherine. You’re aching for it. I’m aching for you as well.”

He took one of her hands and rested it over his erection and she gave him the barest of squeezes before he pushed her hand away with a hiss, “And we’ll have each other, make no mistake about that. But we’ll have each other right. We’ll have one another in the best and hottest and sweetest ways possible. I’ll have you peak, have you see yourself peak, have you see me giving you pleasure and then – and _only_ then – will I take you to bed.”

Mesmerized by his words, she couldn’t look away from him as he spoke, “And then I’ll have you again. I’ll have you to the point where your cries are so deafening that the security team outside will hear you, the people outside on the street will hear you, everyone will hear you and they’ll know that your mine and what’s more, what’s even better, is that they’ll know I’m yours as well. Completely. I love you, Katherine. Do you understand?”

Kat nodded weakly, more tears escaping and his thumbs brushing them away as she whispered so quietly he couldn’t hear her, had to ask her to repeat herself before she managed weakly, “I love you too, you awful British bitch.”

Tom froze and then, then, he looked so gloriously happy that she couldn’t help but laugh and then he was kissing her and she was kissing him back. They were lost in kissing for a few moments; so much so that it was a shock when she felt his fingers gently stroking the damp curls between her legs, as he gently eased them inside of her. 

“Good lord,” he breathed, “You’re so tight, so slick…so ready for me already…”

“Yes,” she urged, her hips surging up into his touch, her eyes locked on the identical ones in the mirror, “Yes, yes. Please.”

Agile fingers rhythmically stroked in and out of her as his mouth latched onto the juncture where her neck met her shoulder, sucking and biting brutally to the point where she knew she’d have a mark and the idea of his marking her made a hot coil grow tight inside her. She could see how glazed her expression was in the mirror, see how lost she was in the absolute carnality of the moment as his fingers continued to lazily thrust in and out of her body, “More, faster…please, Tom. _Please_. Need it. Need you.”

“You beg so prettily,” he returned and then his thumb was circling the apex of her sex, pressing and rubbing against her clit until dizzying waves washed over her again and again, her whole being tightening to a point where she felt she would shatter and he was just pushing her on, encouraging her, “That’s it. That’s it. Take it. It’s all for you. Come on…”

Her whole body shook violently as she crested over into her first climax, his name escaping her in a high keening sound as her fingers dug sharply into his back. Then, much to her shock, he dropped to his knees and drew her legs up and over his shoulders, his mouth feasting on her. His tongue delved deep inside and took her again, pushing her higher and higher, keeping her afloat and reeling. 

She didn’t think it was possible but she could feel another wave building as the very tip of his tongue pushed into her, as it circled and teased and then withdrew to move up and focus solely on her already overly sensitive clit, his fingers once more entering her. Working in tandem, staying with her, he pushed her yet again over the edge.

The combination of two unexpectedly flawless orgasms so close to one another took a lot of the wind out of her. So much so that it was in a dreamy haze that he lifted her from the counter and wrapped her up in his arms, carrying her bridal style towards her bedroom. She didn’t know how he had found it and frankly didn’t care as the plush mattress met her back.

He removed her skirt so that she was now entirely naked and kicked off his shoes. He shucked off his trousers and pants, pushing them off to one side as well and just as he started unbuttoning his shirt she grabbed onto his collar and dragged him down on top of her. He had a lanky, slender frame but there was a comforting weight behind it, especially as it nestled into her luscious curves. Her fingers worked quickly through the buttons of his shirt but rather than remove it she skated her fingers up under the material to rake up and down his bare back.

Being only partial clothed while on top of her while she was entirely nude was a surprisingly fantastic turn on and he found that his hips were quite out of his control, rutting up against her ungracefully as he gasped, “Feel so good. You feel so good under me. So soft. So perfect.”

“Soft another word for fat?” she asked dryly and he scowled and kissed her, “Never. No. You’re warm, plush, full and wonderful and I can’t wait to sink into you, to take you. Will you do that, Katherine? Will you give yourself to me? Will you let me inside?”

She stroked his cheek and her lips twitched as they fought off a smile, “Yes, _Thomas_.”

The name was said with amusing affection, obviously intended as a bit of a tease, but for whatever reason hearing it enflamed him almost more than anything else that had happened thus far. He spread her legs wide, hooking her knees well over his hips before halting, a slight tremor working through him, jawing ticking, “Dear me, nearly forgotten. Are you-?”

She shook her head and rolled her eyes, grasping his shoulder blades an d slowly easing him down towards her as she whispered against his lips, “Protected? Yes, of course. Now come on, Thomas. Make love to me.”

Kat reasoned that the words – while trite and silly to her – would appeal to him. Little did she realize it was more of a trigger than anything else. That was Tom for you. While most men would want a woman to breathily ask them for a fuck, Tom was the type who was unreasonably aroused by a woman asking him to make love to her. 

In fact a strangled sound left him at the words and he sank himself deeply inside her. She let out a sob at the contact, at the feeling of him filling her at last. His cock was thick and full and for a moment she regretted the fact that she had not had a chance to lavish any attention upon that part of him. But then he started moving and she found she could truly do nothing but hold on to him, trying to answer with her own hips rising up to meet him.

It was almost like a dance, the tempo rigorous but sexy as they rocked together, the sheets and blankets beneath them sliding and slipping off to either side of the bed, the headboard tapping out an uneven staccato on the wall. The air filled with the scents and sounds of sex and Kat felt herself getting close again.

Close but not quite there yet and Tom’s eyes were tightly shut, his face cut off and controlled and she knew he was once more focused on her pleasure and on hers alone, ignoring his own desires and she couldn’t stand it. She wanted him to let go, she wanted him as wild and lost as her. She wanted to see him break apart into pieces.

With that in mind her hands rose up and she cupped his face, “Tom. Tom, open your eyes…”

He did as she asked and she panted, “Should’ve…never…left you…” 

He continued to move laboriously over her and she rose up, her mouth inches from one of his ears as she whispered, “Punish me for it.”

A deep, guttural groan tore from his throat and within the next breath he was driving in and out of her viciously, hands clasped hard on her hips and she nearly screamed in sheer delight as she felt him pulse deep inside her, as she felt his release. Her name left him in a husky growl and she felt herself break apart soon after. He continued to move through it, an unselfish lover who wanted her to experience all the last lingering bits of pleasure that she could get from their coupling.

Eventually he collapsed down on her, feeling as if every bone in his body had liquidated and dissolved; his brain inert and numb. Kat tried to catch her breath, her fingers lazily stroking his hair, tugging gently at various curls. Tom started to roll off but she grabbed tightly at him, “Nope. Nuh-uh. No moving.”

“I do not wish to crush you.”

“That’s cute, but seriously? You’re a scarecrow. You weigh next to nothing.”

He chuckled lightly, “A scarecrow?”

“Yeah. Do you, like, _ever_ eat anything ever?”

“I seem to recall having a taste of you not mere moments ago.”

Another blush came, “I’m not food.”

“No, not quite. But you are rather tasty,” he confirmed and gave her a soft kiss. Kat rolled her eyes, “We should get food.”

“We _should_.” He emphasized the word even as he started raining kisses all over her face.

“We’re not going to though, are we?”

“Not just yet.” He murmured and drew back only long enough to finally discard his shirt, “I plan on catching my breath and then fulfilling my promise to have you again. And then again. And then just once more before we’ll _send_ someone to get us food. Then we shall sup and then we shall make love again.”

She couldn’t help it. She giggled. _She_ giggled, “What is it with you and that phrase? It’s so passé. Sex, Tom. We’ll have more sex.”

“Hmm,” he frowned, “I preferred Thomas. And as for sex, that is not what we just accomplished. Nor was it that _other_ phrase everyone finds to be so appealing. No - you and I, my darling dear, made love. And it was bloody brilliant.”

The last was said with bragging superiority and she laughed again as he kissed her soundly. When he stopped she breathed in deeply through her nose before resting a hand on her forehead, eyes darting about as she asked in a soft, tentative voice, “What are we going to do?”

He made a questioning sound and she blinked rapidly to avoid more tears because, seriously, why the hell was she crying so much tonight? Talk about embarrassing, “You and me, Thomas. What are we going to do? You have England and plays and films and I have here and the show and-”

“Shh,” he hushed her, kissed her again, “We’ll make it work, my love. I’ll not lose you again.”

Her lips screwed up to one side at that, “Y’know, you are like a fairy tale prince come to life. Seriously, you should totally audition for Disney.”

“I will if you agree to audition alongside me. After all, you would be an ideal heroine.”

“Ha. Yeah. Right. With this voice? Don’t think many girls would respond well to the deadpan tone.”

“I respond well to it.”

“Psh, yeah. ‘Cause you’re a _weirdo_. A _Shakespearean_ weirdo no less.”

“You wish for Shakespeare?” He tugged her close to him, “‘Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?’”

“Oh god, please, no! No well-known corny verses; please and thank you.”

“So, my lady desires the lesser known? Very well, ‘we that are true lovers run into strange capers; but as all is mortal in nature, so is all nature in love mortal in folly.’”

“Is…that a good or a bad thing?”

He laughed, “Depends on your interpretation. Shakespeare has been analyzed for years and everyone has their own thoughts. That was a verse from ‘As You Like It’. For the most part the entire play is about different ways to live and think about life and half the play is spent mocking romance. However, I rather like to think that that is one of the few optimist lines. It basically says that even though love makes us do silly things, it's also makes us human.”

“Does it now?”

He hummed in agreement and kissed her. Kat sighed, “Trying to make this work is probably a pretty silly thing to do, isn’t it?”

Tom shook his head, “No. _Not_ trying would be far more foolish.”

Kat leaned up and kissed him again, “So, we’ll try to make this work?” 

He nodded and she felt her heart flutter. Doing her best to ignore that, she kissed him again

+

Several days later Kat texted him.

_Y’know, in reflection, I was the 1 who started makin’ this work 1st._

**How so?**

_Texts, Thomas. Texts keep us in touch._

**Mmm, like touching you in real life better.**

_U r a goober. Texts have 2 do 4 now._

**Sadly. Are you free next weekend?**

_As a matter of fact, I am._

**See you then?**

_Ur place or mine?_

**Your neighbors’ complaints about noise would suggest my place is better.**

_Aww, u don’t want 2 c if we can break some noise law?_

**Tempting as that is, I think it would be far more challenging at my residence. No one in earshot for miles.**

_Oooo – ur on. Best bring A+ game._

**Oh, I plan to, dearest. I plan to.**


End file.
